


Fractured Promises

by writing_regen



Series: Holding The Universe Together Across My Shoulders [1]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Character Study, Gen, Introspection, Post-Episode: s12e01-02 Spyfall, She is sad, based on peters last monologue, be kind, but shes dealing with a lot, run fast, shes trying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:08:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22637290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writing_regen/pseuds/writing_regen
Summary: She’d come to life with no name in her mind but a promise weighing on her shoulders.
Series: Holding The Universe Together Across My Shoulders [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1628440
Comments: 8
Kudos: 53





	Fractured Promises

**Author's Note:**

> i...love thirteen and everyone can fight me about it im not sorry.

She’d come to life with no name in her mind but a promise weighing on her shoulders.

  


_ Never be cruel. _

She thought of Tim Shaw. Of the smile that had curled her lips as she’d told him of what could be his fate. The anger that boiled and raged just beneath her skin and manifested in turned backs on tragedy. Her heart was cold. It was hard to admit, but she’d always been cruel. Stealing lives away with smiles and promises of grandeur and never divulging the dark parts of the Universe - of herself - until it was too late. All under the guise of morality and goodness. She just didn’t want to be alone.

  


_ Never be cowardly. _

  


She nearly laughed. From the moment she’d stolen the TARDIS and run she’d been a coward. Distracting and distancing herself from the painful jagged pieces by traveling to exotic worlds and finding trouble. But when things got personal she always ran. Retreated back into herself to avoid getting hurt. 

  


_ Try to be nice. _

  


That one was easy. She had it down to a science. Nice was an act. A mask. She knew when and how to smile, what to say to make people feel at ease, where to laugh to ease tension. She had never been nicer. This regeneration was all bubbly and bright and wide smiles and compassion and hugs. It felt forced - pieces genuine, yes, but far from always. But nice wasn’t about truth - it was about results.

  


_ Never fail to be kind. _

  


That… was harder. Kind was genuine. Kind couldn’t be a skin-deep mask, paper-thin and tearing. It had to come from somewhere in the hearts, but hers were closed off and wary. They were not kind. They were tired. She was tired. But she was trying. Some days it felt almost genuine.

  


Most days it tasted like ash on her tongue and smoke in her throat and broken oaths.

  


_ Laugh hard. _

  


She was always laughing. Chuckles to herself, loud peals of the thing in the wake of a good joke. Sneers and snickers and curled lips in the face of animosity. A hard, pointed noise where her past selves would have balked at the death and pain and disgust on her face.

  


_ Run fast. _

  


She never stopped. This version was constantly moving: shifting her weight, or pulling at her hair or fiddling with her fingers or the TARDIS. She never stood still. Couldn’t. If she stopped it would all catch up to her and then there was no way back. So she ran as fast as she could and didn’t look back, her destination anywhere but the dust on her heels and ice in her heart.

  


She’d been created out of an idealistic hope - but was left to pick up the ragged pieces of the harsh reality she’d created instead.

  


_ Be kind. _

**Author's Note:**

> shes so sad!!!! shes hiding so much and i am afraid. I wrote this about a month ago thinking about her regeneration and poem i wrote i hope you all enjoy! also grammarly says my tone is disapproving and thats true but VERY FUNNY to me


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